


Omake: God is a Girl a.k.a Why Hermione Granger had to Die

by Solita_Belle



Series: The Holmes to your Moriarty [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 09:13:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8661187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solita_Belle/pseuds/Solita_Belle
Summary: Omake to main story. Other name: Breaking the Fourth WallTime: the night before the Reichenbach Fall, when Hermione was preparing for her and Moriarty’s first and last face-to-face confrontation.Place: Hermione’s cottage in Quizzic Alley





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Spoiler. Mild bashing if you really look for it. Mild parodic change of lyrics from the song “God if a girl”. Abuse of author's authority. Please don’t kill me.

Hermione was trying to encode the Secret of the Underworld Moriarty sent her. It was a big mistake he made there; the Underworld was only Moriarty’s stronghold because it was constantly under the Fidelius Charm, the greatest magical protection ever known, with him as the sole Secret Keeper. If things ever turned sour, that would be Moriarty’s last hiding place, where nobody would even _hope_ to reach him. And he had so carelessly sent the Secret, the _written_ Secret no less, to her; what, did he not think that she would find a way to blow the Charm apart with it? Not that she even needed to. For tomorrow’s confrontation, she’d just have to find a way to sent the Secret to Ron Weasley without it being blocked off by Moriarty’s agents (which, she had found, were plentiful within _and_ without the Auror Department.) Just to play by the Sherlock Holmes theme, she would use the Dancing Men code. It was, to be fair, a risky move, but then almost no one in the wizarding world even _knew_ of the Sherlock Holmes series but her circle and Moriarty’s most trusted, and there was no way he would consider a mere spy to be among those.

Her plan was sound, but for that she needed to work out a spell for the encoding. The Secret to a Fidelius Charm required not only the wording of the Secret, but also the Secret Keeper’s magical signature to work, so manual encoding was out. The spell wasn’t that hard to work out though; in fact, she was close to finish already; just a little problem left with the organization of the runes-

“Oh, you can just drop that, darling. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway.”

A little girl in a black and yellow dress was sitting on the work table beside her, swinging her legs back and forth. Hermione started backward, nearly overbalanced her chair. “What the-?”

“I must admit though, it was a brilliant idea, one of my best really.” The girl ignored her, musing aloud to herself. “To encode the Secret with the Dancing Men. A pity it won’t see the light of day...”

“Just - who the hell are you? How did you get here? And what the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh please, darling, use your pretty little head. It’s not like you don’t know it already. I’m even actively letting you know!”

“You are...” Hermione did, but she hesitated, because the mere idea of it had to be insane, right? “You’re _God_.”

“Well,” the odd girl took a look at her own dress before replying, “technically Goddess, since I’m most assuredly female, but you get the idea. Ever heard ‘God is a girl?’ Still, you can call me whatever; God, Goddess, Creator, The Power That Be, blah blah blah… I really don’t mind.”

Hermione didn’t have anything to say about that. Her brain was still in the process of easing itself out of the shock when God – Goddess – continued: “Just thought I’d drop by, considering this is your last night and all. ‘Sides, I kinda feel bad, being so mean to you all this time. Thought you’d like some answers, though they probably wouldn’t mean much...”

“Wait- wait,” Hermione stammered when what she was hearing started to make sense in her mind, “what do you mean this is my last night?”

The girl - God - looked at her with blatant pity. “I mean that you will die tomorrow, darling. You’ll go and confront your Moriarty at his stronghold, and you won’t survive. It’ve been decided _before_ I even made you.”

Denials after denials ran through her mind as she shook her head. That wasn’t possible, this must be a dream of some sorts, caused by nerves, she was ready, her plans were in place, ever details were accounted for, she would defeat Potter-Moriarty once and for all...

“Oh, come on, darling!” the _bitch_ sitting on her table had the nerves to groan in the face of her crisis. “You’ve got your _God_ here totally ready to answer every question that’s ever crossed that curious mind of yours, and you’d rather spend the whole night away babbling denials? Not that I’m not unaware that being told you’re going to die is shocking news, but really, don’t make this whole effort of mine a waste!”

“Why? How?!” the question busted out of Hermione moments before her mind could catch up with it. “I got plans, they should work! Why wouldn’t they?!”

“Well it’s kinda obvious if you think about it,” the clearly demented God mused aloud. “You fancy yourself the Holmes to his Moriarty, yes? Have you even _read_ Sherlock Holmes, darling?” She continued without even waiting for the answer. “The way I see it, Holmes’ victory against Moriarty in the book was due a lot to his resourcefulness. He had the Baker Street’s Irregulars as his eyes and ears to the underworld, his brother’s position in the government that made professional attempts on his life highly difficult, as well as enabled him to go above the law. And even with all that, he didn’t even managed to outwit Moriarty did he? He survived purely by _luck_ .” She chuckled. “Did you know he nearly _didn’t_ survive at the hand of his _God_ at all?”

“But you, darling,” pity was again clear in God’s eyes, “you don’t even have those resources, do you? The Auror Department doesn’t support you, you have no Baker Street’s Irregular, you don’t even have a guardian angel in high place who has interests in keeping you alive. Frankly, darling, your Moriarty has you beat. You’ve been doomed from the start.”

“But – but,” Hermione’s mind, so recently short-circuited, was working overtime now, “but I have _you_ , right? You’re _God_ , you can fix this – you can help me win! You said Sherlock Holmes’ _God_ helped him, right? You’re my _God_ , my Creator; you must let me win!”

God sighed.

“Must you make things difficult, darling? I gave you your answers, the nice ones at that. You just _have_ to pry for the ugly version then? Fine, I’ll tell you: you’re doomed, ‘coz I like your Moriarty better. And frankly, he’s not even mine to kill.”

“W-what?” Hermione gasped.

God gave another long-suffering sigh.

“I really don’t wanna say this, but I figure I owe you the truth. You see, Potter-Moriarty was the Creation of another God. One I greatly admire. So anyway, when he was ‘born’, he didn’t have a ‘Holmes’, and his _God_ just couldn’t bother giving him one. So I thought I would, see? ‘Coz a ‘Moriarty’ needs a ‘Holmes’ too, and so I created you, like, as a gift to his _God_ , I guess? And so I can’t really let you beat him, right, ‘coz that’d just not the thing to do. She – the other God – kinda loves him, and I love him too. So, well,...” she trailed off as she finally caught the _look_ in Hermione’s eyes.

If her eyes really reflected her thought, then Hermione was pretty sure the look meant _murder_.

“You-“ she said through grinded teeth. “You’d let me die, ‘cause you _like him better?!_ ”

The God in the the skin of a little girl glanced around nervously, swinging her legs much faster now. “Well, you asked. And you know the Rule, right? The Hero always wins in the end of the story? Well, he’s kind of the Hero...”

Hermione couldn’t hold herself back any longer; she lunged for the figure, God be damned. But the girl – God – whatever – was ready for it. In less than a split second she was at the other end of the room, turning on her heels and got her dress to bloom out prettily. “Well, you should have known better than to ask questions that you don’t like the answers to. I must be off, good luck on your confrontation; or not. Bye!” And then she vanished, like she’d never been there.

* * *

 

Hermione looked down at her notes, then looked outside. Good God, it’s nearly dawn already; what had she been doing all night? There were so much left to do! She quickly gathered all the notes for the uncompleted spell and dumped them into the wasted bin, then picked up the postcard which the Secret Moriarty sent her. She’d just forgo the encoding and drop it off at Weasley’s this way then; it wasn’t like it would make a difference. Decision made, she hastily half-ran out the door.

Just as she made to step outside, she caught some little girl’s singing on the edge of her hearing. Shaking her head, she got out and closed the door; it wasn’t like it had anything to do with her. Though the lyrics did sound kind of odd.

“God is a girl, she does what she pleases. Do you believe it, can you receive it~”

THE END.


End file.
